Let Me Go
by LeesaCrakon
Summary: Race struggles. Tw: Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide attempt. Platonic SpotxRace. Entry for the Newsies Pape Selling Competition


**A/N: Entry for the Newsies Papes Selling Competition**

 **Broadway Version**

 **Prompts/Colors used: Blue:** **Emotion: Depression**

 **Red: Emotion: Anger**

 **Ship(s): Platonic RacexSpot**

 **Word Count: 879 words**

* * *

Race's world was empty, meaningless, bathed melancholy blue. He had no purpose or reason to live besides sleeping, earning money, and smoking cigars he stole. That wasn't much of a life, but it was all the boy had. He needed to stick around a bit longer, tough it out, because he wasn't ready to give up yet. Those thoughts still didn't keep the heavy blue thoughts from swirling around in his mind and poisoning his once soft heart, turning it to ice. All of the boys at the Lodging House loved him, but they knew when to stay away and when to limit their affections. Race's emotions were as fast as a light. One minute he was happy and smiling, next he was sobbing into his hands or yelling with rage. Race hated it. He hated himself, but that wasn't important.

Race's world began to be tinted after his first trip to Brooklyn. He got lost trying to sell his papers and accidentally stumbled into the territory of the Brooklyn Newsies. He'd heard stories about a few poor souls that stumbled into Brooklyn and never came back again. It terrified him but made him happy at the same time. Maybe they'd kill him, and everything would finally be over. He found himself surrounded, pressed against a wall in the middle of a dark alleyway.

The leader, Spot was his name, had been gruff and mean at first, but one look at Race and he immediately eased up. He shooed his goons away and made it his responsibility to safely guide Race through Brooklyn, making sure he got back to Manhatten safely with all of his papers sold and a few extra coins in his pocket. They never talked, they barely even looked at each other, but Race felt something he hadn't felt in a very long time. Affection. Blue slowly began to fade and become lighter.

All of the boys noticed the change. Race seemed more cheerful, he smoked less, and he got into fewer fights. But, he also slept less, choosing instead to stay out late or gaze up at the stars from his bedroom window. It worried everyone, Jack most of all, but Race was happy and he sold his papes just fine, so no one tried to stop him. He went to Brooklyn every day, unbeknownst to Jack and the rest of the Newsies, and met Spot at the bakery shop. Spot knew his name now, and sometimes he even smiled at him. They still didn't talk much, but they sold their newspapers together, and Race was happy. Navy blue slowly faded to the color of cotton candy.

Race found himself able to talk to Spot about anything. They would sneak onto the roof of the Lodging House, dodging past Specs, Crutchie, Jack, and other night owls and look up at the stars, admiring the view and enjoying each other's company. Race hadn't been this happy in a while, and he should have known that soon it would be destroyed. Spot started to ask questions, way too many questions. He asked about his life before being a newsie, what his parents were like, and so many other questions that made his skin crawl. Race sprang to his feet and told Spot to shut up. Red tinged his vision as he screamed at Spot to stop, to go away, to leave him alone. Spot tried to grab his wrist and he yanked away, clutching both of his hands to his chest, backing up until he hit the fire escape.

Race's whole whirled was doused in red and blue. His head spun, his heart torn between anger, betrayal, and the knowledge of how high up the Lodging House roof was, how easy it would be to jump. He ignored Spot's horrified cries of his name and climbed up onto the railing. Red was fading, blue consuming his vision. He was so high up, one simple misstep could lead to his end, and that's what he was counting on. Race smiled, his vision blurry for some reason as he began to fall.

Spot screamed in terror and grabbed at his friend desperately, leaning over the railing and grabbing Race by the waist, one of his strong, powerful arms wrapping around it. Race twisted and screamed, clawing at the arm around his waist and yelling at Spot to let go, to just let him die already. Spot pulled him up and the two of them crashed to the ground, Spot lying flat on his back and Race collapsed on top of him. Race was trembling and didn't realize he'd been crying until Spot sat the two of them up and clumsily wiped Race's tears away.

Race started sobbing. Everything was dark, and cold, and blue, and he just wanted it to go away. He wanted to be happy, to be rid of this horrible existence and to just die already. Spot held Race close to his chest as he cried, a bit awkward, but not willing to let go of his friend anytime soon. Race buried his face in Spot's chest, clinging to his shirt like a lifeline. He just wanted to go. Why couldn't Spot let him go?

He just wanted to go. Why couldn't Spot let him go?


End file.
